Flash Fiction – SOS

Every day after school we’d take the short cut home, past the witches house. We’d creep through the overgrown front garden that stank of cat’s wee and ring the bell before running away.

One gloomy winter’s evening there were flashes coming from the upstairs window and we clutched each other’s arms and said she must be casting spells.

The next day Ma told me old Mrs Withers had been found, dead on the floor of her bedroom. She’d fallen and had been trying to signal for help with a torch.

I always walked the long way home from school after that.

It doesn’t seem long since my debut The Sister was published and while I’m thrilled it’s still in the UK top ten, I’m super excited to have revealed the cover to my second psychological thriller this week. It’s called The Gift and will be…